Monkey See
by Foxbear
Summary: Knockout chose the winning side. He always had. It was what cowards did, and the former Decepticon had long ago come to accept his own cowardice and its consequences. That is he had, until that infernally nosy Cadet Jackson Darby started picking at the open wound on his spark. He should have known better... commission for Nightpounce /u/1135964/
1. Arrival

Monkey See

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

Arrival

**Chapter 1**

"Knockout, would you please finish up those reports before you leave at the end of your shift?"

The voice was calm, reasonable, respectful even. Knockout fought back the urge to release a long exvent and gritted his dentia painfully. Long experience with the Decepticon command structure had left him a master at managing the complex and often lethal politics of life under Megatron's rule. Life under Autobot command was... very different indeed. Yet no matter how often he repeated to himself that the Autobots in general, and any medic Ratchet had trained in particular, were soft he could not quite remove the nagging voice at the back of his head. The one that said stepping over the invisible like rank marked on the floor would earn him either a beating, or a smelting. So he held the comment he really wanted to give inside his own processor.

"Of course First Aid," Knockout replied smoothly. "You know no one does them better."

The red and white Autobot gave a soft chuckle at that and nodded.

"That is certainly true enough," First Aid replied before stretching. "You are a hard worker Knockout. Do know that we appreciate everything you do."

There was that respectful care again, and Primus knew it wasn't that that set the medic on edge. Knockout winced minutely at the abrasions and dings the movement revealed just under every plate on the Autobot. Oh, he _tried_ to convince his superior to have _proper_ mesh maintenance done. He dropped subtle hints and attempted to coax the self-sacrificing little fool to come to the wash racks with him on their rare down time. Knockout had found that requesting care for his own mesh worked the best. If First Aid had just finished buffing out his subordinate's finish he usually wouldn't object to a little reciprocal care. But Ratchet had trained his little minions well, whether he had intended to or not. Self sacrifice was the order of the day, every day.

"You have been an immeasurable help with all the paperwork," First Aid offered with a smile. "I must admit that that was one part of civilization I didn't miss. Goodnight Knockout." With that the senior medic left the rapidly dimming room, no doubt to spend a few illicit hours aiding some poor former Decepticon too scared to come into the Autobot controlled medical bay before falling exhausted into his own powerdown berth for a short rest.

"And that folks," Knockout mutter shaking his head, "is a perfect example of how sparklings learn far more from example than instruction_." And of course that is the main reason you are here and not on Earth_. "Oh do shut up." _No innocents to corrupt here_. _At least Ratchet leaves his minions with virtuous faults_. Knockout rolled his optics at the inner voice and turned to select the proper maintenance tool from one of the many drawers that lined the medical bay walls. He had made peace with his decision and if his spark was demanding he take up Ratchet's offer of vacation time on the blue planet he was well able to ignore it. "Computer, activate voice to glyph recording, Iaconian style Orion-seven, my voice only. Begin."

The computer chirped in compliance and Knockout fought back a chuckle. _Autobots_, he thought with a pleased smile, _even their sparkless machines are cheerful_. It was a refreshing change from the dark, ominous feel of Decepticon tech but he couldn't help but mock the sentimentality.

"Report One: Re Neutral Golddust, grounder frame, forged pre-singularity unknown age," an ironic smirk twisted Knockout's faceplates even as he continued entering the pertinent data for the simple joint alignment he had performed on the old dancer.

The singularity, a term that the returning soldiers had brought home from Earth. It was a politically correct term if ever there was one. The Autobots didn't want to address the fact that their beloved Optimus Prime and the old system he stood for, the system they had fought and offlined for, was gone. None of the former Decepticons wanted to admit that Optimus had been a true Prime in the first place and they had been wrong to oppose him, not yet. The fact that it had been him and not Megatron who had truly effected lasting change was a point still too sore to fully process.

"So we call his joining with the Allspark the singularity," Knockout muttered, then sighed. "Delete last phrase. End Report One. Begin Report Two. Re Sawbones, Seeker frame, formed post-singularity AD 02, minor, Guardian Former Decepticon Blackstar. Treatment for cybermites."

The medic was tidying up the lab as he recorded. Cybermites were merely annoying, if you caught the infestation early, but sterilizing the lab after a case was always a necessary if tiresome precaution. Unfortunately neither task required his full attention and as it always did his processor started to wander. For all of Blackstar's angry posturing in the Autobot controlled medical facility it had been clear that he was utterly devoted to his sparkling. That was hardly unusual for Seekers. The elite flyers had some old cultural attachment to the young of the species if he remembered Gasket's stories correctly.

Knockout flinched and paused the recording, for a long moment wrestling with an old memory file. Long engrained habit resisted the activation of the file. It wasn't safe to think on such, soft, things. New protocols, the ones that let him thrive amongst the victors of the war, scolded him. No one here would call him soft now even if he chose to reveal his pre-war past and his unusual upbringing. The medic finally placed the memory file in the queue to be reactivated. A lot of the old things had surfaced lately, now that he was safe. Still there were a few he kept more active for caution's sake.

"_Do not give your trust easily," the dark purple mech warned as he steered the youngling toward the doors. "Make every mech or femme you let close earn every unguarded moment you give them." The elder mech knelt and stared into his optics searchingly. There was a moment of hesitation. "Do you remember the goals your Guardian gave you?" he asked with a hint of gentle kindness in his voice. _

"_Learn good, become a medic, help the injured, make friends," the youngling repeated seriously._

"_Good," the older mech nodded. "You will do Gasket proud," his voice caught on some painful memory of his own and his hand tightened on the youngling's shoulder. "Now, what is your designation and faction?"_

"_I am the Decepticon Knockout!"_

In the present the lab was clean and his processor had even more room to wander. This time he let it. Knockout couldn't keep the bittersweet smile from his faceplates or his voice as he recalled kind blue optics and that always hopeful look his own Guardian had worn. How the poor battered mech had loved to tell his sparkling tales of the Seekers and their true calling, of Cybertron as it had been before.

"Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away," Knockout murmured softly. "That's what the humans say." He gave a tired sigh. "Delete previous comment."

It was strange really. To say it had been a hard life growing up in the streets of Iacon in the so called Golden Age would be an understatement of epic proportions. Even with his Guardian and the rest of the little family he had cobbled together scrabbling for every scrap of energon they could Knockout's tanks had never been full. They took what shelter they could wherever they could. They struggled to avoid the authorities who would have snatched them apart at the slightest provocation. Still, somehow Knockout had never gotten over longing for those times. Not when he had been accepted into the Decepticon ranks and had been assured at least a warm berth at night. Not when he had advanced through the ranks until he had never had to worry about having a full tank again. He had never stopped wanting what he had had then, what had been stolen from his so suddenly. _Bright blue eyes. A warm childish laugh. _Knockout shut down that train of thought viciously. He might be among soft sparked Autobots now, but some thoughts were still just too dangerous.

The reports were finally finished and the medic was about to return to his quarters to work on the files of instructional material when the arrival alarm began to blare through the officers' com line. His processors quickened pleasurably. This was a nice little almost-surprise. A quick stop by his quarters then and off to the transport center to meet the new arrivals once they were through quarantine.


	2. Oddity

**Monkey See 2**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Oddity **

"Special Agent Nakadai is actually on a training mission," Jackson Darby was explaining to Smokescreen as he obligingly held up his arms for the decontamination spray. "She wanted to come and sent messages for all of you but this newest batch of recruits wasn't up to her standards –"

Knockout gave a derisive snort as he approached with his medical clipboard in hand. The human shot a glance at the display screen and let a look of irritation twist his face for the briefest of moments before it smoothed back into the professional smile Jack usually wore when dealing with the medic.

"Good to see you Doctor. Here to make sure I am not carrying any nasty viruses I take it?" Jack greeted Knockout.

"Can't be too careful with such a small population," Knockout confirmed. "One little virus could wipe us out; accidently or otherwise." The implied, almost-accusation aimed at humans in general was coated in honeyed tones and the former Decepticon wasn't sure if it had gotten a reaction out of the human or not so he tried another track. "Not up to Wrecker standards eh?" he asked with a smirk. "I take it they still have some survival instincts left?"

There might have been a flash of irritation at the more pointed and personal barb but Jack merely chuckled.

"It is more the integration with the neural interfaces and technical control of the exo-suits that has Agent Nakadai concerned," he explained. "Ratchet was actually hoping to get your feedback on some of the issues."

"Always glad to do my part to build friendly relations with more primitive species," Knockout agreed aloud. _And get a chance to actually get a rise out of you, but you never make it easy. Like father like son as they say._

The Last Prime's stoicism had been a byword by the end of the war. That was what had made trying to get a reaction out of him such fun, save for the times when Knockout inadvertently succeeded. He suppressed a wince as he remembered the screech of rending metal as his door panel had been torn off of his arm. Such an annoying ending to what had been an enjoyable evening of racing. Optimus's overreaction made perfect sense now, hindsight and twenty-twenty as the humans said. Jack had been in danger, and from what juicy bits of gossip the doctor had gleaned over the intervening years, in danger due to disobeying the Prime's explicit instructions. In retrospect it was enough to send any Guardian into a rage. Still, such moments had been rare. While the little human in front of him didn't have nearly that level of control yet it was painfully clear that he was striving to imitate Optimus. Sometimes Knockout wondered if the Autobots and their human allies knew that he was aware of the bond between Jack and the Prime, but they had never brought the subject up and the former Decepticon sure as the pit wasn't going to, no matter how well the little organic mimicked his Guardian.

Case in point; that last snide remark had failed utterly to get a reaction. _Note to self, insulting the human race as a whole doesn't get a rise out of Little Primeling. _As soon as the decontamination session ended Jack leapt lightly to the surface of the examination table. Smokescreen was glaring irritably at Knockout who simply flicked his plating in amused indifference.

*These first years are critical to building our relationship with the humans and therefore the rest of the organic species in the galaxy!* the temporary head of the Elite Guard nearly growled over the comm.

*Oh get off your high horse Autobot,*Knockout replied, his plating flicking in amused exasperation. *I know for a fact that you spend a good deal of your time getting 'fun' reactions out of him.*

* I do not!* Smokescreen puffed out his armor aggressively even as he helped towel off his human friend. *I have nothing but respect for-*

*Starsaber,* Knockout cut him off mid tirade lacing the word through with glyphs for ~fun~, ~irresponsibility~, and ~adventure~.

It had the desired effect. Smokescreen clamped down his plating and field in shame even as his ministrations to the human grew more careful at the memory of the fiasco. To his credit Jack pretended to not notice the silent interaction.

"So anyway we have a rep from Opticorp here this time," Jack was saying as he pulled on the jumpsuit adorned with his official rank as both a West Point Cadet and the ambassador responsible for two entire planets.

"Another improvement in spring energon purification?" Knockout inquired.

"No," Jack replied with a wide grin. "More energon treat recipes along with music contracts."

"I'm a bit surprised that your government is giving Raf's little business such a monopoly," Smokescreen interjected with a frown. "I mean it's not a very big corporation yet. Raf only started it because Abulita wanted to protect his interests."

"Every contract they give to Opticorp means fewer people have to know about Cybertron," Jack shrugged his shoulders.

"I suppose the American economy is doing well if a little start up like Opticorp can handle all that so quickly," Knockout commented casually.

"I didn't know you followed Earth markets," Jack noted with a sharp look at the maroon mech.

Silently cursing the slip Knockout put on his best mischievous smile. "Oh you know me. I follow anything related to racing. The highest class of races is pretty dependant on the disposable income of the masses you know."

Jack nodded, accepting the explanation, or simply being too polite to press an ally for personal information. You never knew with the little Primeling. His sense of propriety made him all the harder to read and predict Knockout mused. Meanwhile the all clear sounded for the other decontamination chamber and the doors irised open to reveal the lanky form of a femme sauntering through.

"Let's get this show on the road," she declared. "Primus I can't wait until Ratchet can get that automatic decon system set up."

Knockout took a moment to admire Arcee and nearly did a double take. Like all femmes she possessed a grace he had always envied. There was a poise to her light frame, which she had displayed from the first moment he had seen her on the battle field, that was now infused with a powerful confidence gained from eons of experience. Knockout shot a quick glance at Jack and just suppressed a slight frown. That added layer of emotional stability clearly came from having a stable partner. It was not that the medic didn't appreciate what the human provided for her, rather it was the given that in less than a vorn the human would be gone and someone was going to be left cleaning up the emotional mess that left. Knockout had seen the psyche profile on Arcee. That kind of dependency was a weakness they couldn't afford. _Oh like you are one to talk!_ His inner voice sneered.

Knockout refocused on what had caught his attention in the first place_. Arcee looked good_. The femme had always taken care of her overall health a little better than the mechs on her team. Being smaller and lighter any blunt force damage was far more dangerous to her. But her appearance had received even less care than Ratchet's if that was possible. Even Bumblebee had taken better care of his mesh than she did. It had improved slightly when she was on Earth, something Knockout had at first attributed to her wanting to put up a good appearance so as not to disgrace the Darby family name, given that she had relapsed as soon as she had returned to Cybertron.

Now however she gleamed. The many scars and dings she had carried proudly through the war were fading faster than even Knockout's healed with his constant maintenance. The faint flickering field that was generated by external repair nanobots was so robust that the medic could note it without specialized scans. She had to be doing something new to get her mesh from meh to wow so quickly and Knockout had to know what it was.

The question of why she would bother flitted across Knockout's processor as they left the decon facility and stepped out into New Icaon. They transformed and Jack lightly mounted Arcee's alt mode once he had settled the nervous Opticorp employee into Smokescreen's alt. Perhaps it was as simple as the femme wanting to be a presentable ride for an officer with the standing that Jack would no doubt have once he graduated. But from what Knockout knew of American military culture a pristine bike was seen as a sign of inexperience, with the scars on a man's ride telling the story of his life and conquests. At least that was what the instruction at the drive in theater led him to believe, for what that was worth.

The little convoy pulled into Iacon tower which was abuzz with construction workers running this way and that. Arcee and Jack headed straight for the council chambers, no doubt to discuss important points of treaty and trade with Ultra Magnus. Knockout gave an annoyed exvent and left Jack a message to meet him as soon as they were out. Whatever Arcee was doing for her mesh it was working better after two weeks on Earth than anything that he had managed for his own mesh after two years on restored Cybertron. He had to know what was up and the little Primeling was far more likely to answer him than the femme who still had a few issues with him. Most of which centered around him trying to kidnap/maim/kill Jack. Odd how life worked out like that.


	3. Questions

**Monkey See 3**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Questions**

"I hate politics," Jack groaned as he stomped into the medical bay hours later.

Knockout finished up the report entry he had been working and waved the human over to the inner office.

"Hardly surprising," Knockout agreed smoothly. "Working with more than one person at a time is always more trouble than it's worth."

Jack grunted noncommittally and hesitated at the base of the central table. Knockout understood and glanced around. The medical office had been a hastily constructed room prefabricated from designs crafted before humans had been a concern.

"Now I know First Aid had that rope ladder installed somewhere around here," his voice trailed off as he failed to find the device in question and he glanced down a bit uneasily at the small human. It would be rude to simply pick him up and set him on the table and the other obvious option made Knockout's tank squirm a little. _What the Pit, you invited him didn't you? Also you are trying to sweet talk information out of him so you might as well put up a friendly front_. That decided, Knockout slid one ped out slightly and held his hand out, palm up, over the table.

"Alley-oop, Jack my boy?" He smirked at the human.

Jack gave a grin and lightly leapt up the proffered path. His hands and soft Unit E regulation boots easily found purchase on the mech's frame and never lingered for which Knockout was supremely grateful. His processor flashed back to that first time the little organic had climbed up him. Granted his mind had still been foggy from Trypticon's stasis beam but that had seemed to make the digging fingers and dirty tennis shoes on his mesh and in his joints all the worse. Then the human had been in front of him, all soft mushy bits and easily torn flesh. Knockout remembered raising his drill with a sense of sick dread. He hadn't really seen Jack at that moment. It was a dark vibrant green set of eyes that had seemed to stare back at him in his befuddled state. There had been relief mixed with the fear when Ratchet had shown up to rescue Jack. There was no way Knockout would have been able to kill the boy himself and explaining showing mercy to a human would have been a tough call.

"Thanks Knockout," Jack grinned up at him in the present with that bright, cheerful, and so very disconcerting gaze.

"Anytime," Knockout brushed off his disquietude, "I suppose you wondered why I called you here," he continued as he pulled a prepackaged meal out of the refrigeration unit. Something First Aid insisted on having in case the occasional human stopped by.

"Well I was a bit curious," Jack admitted as he took the cube and set it on the table before transforming it into a low table with the meal spread out on it. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Even after two years it felt so ridiculously good to use the common pleasantry programs his Guardian had installed in him, the ones he had not activated for the entire length of the war. "Well you see Cadet Darby," Knockout began, leaning against the counter as he considered the best approach, "I have a question for you."

"Shoot," Jack offered as he took a bite of a peculiar looking sandwich.

"What is Arcee doing?" Knockout finally burst out deciding on the direct approach.

"Debriefing Ultra Magnus and Bumblebee on the situation on Earth," Jack said with confusion in his voice.

"No, no! My good Cadet," Knockout waved his hands in exasperation. "Ever since she stepped out of the groundbridge that femme has been letting her finish go to the Pit!" He explained, gesturing with his hands. "On Earth she at least maintained a certain baseline of cleanliness and polish. I am going to take a wild guess and say you had something to do with that?" He glanced at Jack and arched his optic ridges inquiringly.

"We watched out for each other," Jack agreed cautiously. "I helped her keep clean. We used to hang out at Red Chief's in Nevada."

"A good place," Knockout smiled at the memory of the large enclosed bays the privacy they offered, "worth the drive. But no, this is something more. Her mesh is positively humming with health after this last trip," he waved his hands widely, "vastly improved. Given that she shows absolutely no care for her own appearance I figure that it must be entirely due to you." He ended pointing at the human dramatically.

"Me?" Jack asked skeptically.

"What other factor could there be?" Knockout demanded. "Unless she has been seeing Ratchet for special treatment? Or Raf at Opticorp?"

"It's not that I am denying it KO," Jack said raising his hands in a placating manner. "It is just that I am not sure. Of course she didn't bother Ratchet for mesh care and Raf has been crazy busy, but so have I. Half the time she was on Earth I was neck deep in sand for training."

Knockout raised his servos to his faceplates and pondered the situation deliberately. "So," he drawled out carefully, "the question then becomes what did you do? I mean anything associated with her mesh, or," he hesitated in thought, "with boosting her general systems?"

There was a flicker of unease in Jack's blue-grey eyes at the latter half of the question that made Knockout perk up. There was something the human was holding back about his care for his partner. Interesting.

"Well the very first step for a Cybertronian returning to Earth is a decon bath, but that is pretty neutral as far as mesh health goes," Jack thought out loud. "Ratchet worked hard to make sure it wasn't caustic but it still offers no health benefits. Then there was the…" he paused and a suddenly calculating looks crossed his face.

Knockout waited and watched with growing anticipation. He knew far too much about the human's moods thanks to Project Phoenix and from what he was seeing Jack had stumbled on the answer and was deciding how much to share with him. From the pleased expression that was developing it was going to be a lot. Just like his Guardian Jackson Darby loved to grant boons.

"Well?" Knockout finally burst out eagerly.

"I think I know what did it," Jack cautiously confirmed, "but I am not sure you are going to like it."


	4. Answers

**Monkey See 4**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Answers**

Knockout glared sullenly at the wall in front on him. The paneling in question offered very little of interest, just a few dents made by Bulkhead's crews. He gave a long exvent and rolled his shoulders stiffly. In less than an hour Jack would be out of his meeting with Bumblebee and the Ultra Magnus. Knockout still had time to make up his processor. That wasn't the issue. Nor was it really a question of whether or not he would say yes. After all Arcee was looking fabulous. There was no way in the Pit he wasn't going to avail himself of something that did that to living mesh. He had done far worse over the course of the war to keep looking good.

No, the problem was that all those millennia of being a Decepticon were screaming at him to say no. Those were instincts that had kept him alive. He hadn't yet learned to ignore them. The world was changing and his habits were going to have to catch up eventually. For now they screamed that it would be showing weakness, accepting charity.

"The war is over," he muttered darkly to himself.

Knockout stood as his chronometer showed it was time to go meet Jack. He stashed the chit with the measurements of his current mesh health he had taken in a storage fold on his arm and sauntered to the barely erected biodome. He wanted hard evidence of any improvement.

Granted that Cybertron's atmosphere had been remade in an almost perfect imitation of Earth's it was still a wild and wooly place. The biodome offered a near perfect environment for humans. Not quite tropical conditions with a blue sky and a small lake in the center. More importantly the human friendly decontamination suite that unlike the main one at the spacebridge was almost never used.

"Knockout," Arcee greeted him as he rounded a corner.

"Arcee," he returned, and flashed her his most charming grin. He was disappointed she was here but hardly surprised. It was not as if a few years of peace could just wash away generations of war and the distrust that created. "May I expect the pleasure of you assistance my sweet femme?" he queried with a smirk.

Arcee gave a derisive snort and flared her armor in aggression but there was no real malice behind the automatic reaction. Knockout turned his attention to the airlock and stepped forward with a cocky strut. Despite what Jack and Arcee thought this wasn't his first time. Within the bare and utilitarian chamber Jack was standing in shorts and a tee shirt and holding a single bucket and wash cloth.

"You ready for this," he asked with a grin.

_Eager to please_. Knockout's inner voice offered. _Just like Benny_. He ruthlessly stomped down on the thought and then hesitated. Here at least, with an Autobot who understood devotion to a human far better than he, it might be safe to allow such thoughts. _Just like Benny. Wanting only to help_. He gave a tired exvent and folded down into his alt mode to cover the pang in his spark. Stripped of his uniform and rank Jack did look like just another human boy. A little taller, a little better muscled, perhaps…_but it's been nearly three years now since you've seen him, _whispered the voice, _three long years since you abandoned him. He will have grown._

"Well," Knockout demanded, unable to completely cover the irritation in his voice. "Get on with it."

"Watch you tone," Arcee cut in with a growl from the corner. "Jack is doing you a favor."

"Easy Cee," Jack murmured and he began gently stroke the damp cloth over the maroon mesh. "We are all friends here," Arcee flickered her field at that but subsided.

Jack struck up a conversation about a small race course he had been following. It mostly catered to motorcycles of the frame type Arcee favored but ran a few car races. Knockout eagerly joined in. Though it stung a bit to admit Jack was far better at the cleaning than either Benny or his grandfather had been, before too long Knockout was relaxing into the touch. There was the same sense of care, of wanting to please not just because they expected some reward but because they found joy in giving others pleasure. At some point Knockout let his processor drift.

_The rain battered down against his windows and wet swirls of wind swept under his frame. Knockout shuddered a little but endured. He had bartered and threatened and begged his way free of the _Nemesis _for one glorious day. Unfortunately it happened to be a fall day when the whole of North America was bathed in rain. He might have tried to outrun the storm but there was nowhere to go. He might have sought shelter but…_

"_Ash!" a joyful voice squealed as eighty-seven pounds of human slammed into his side._

_Knockout snapped open his door and let the child scramble in. "By Route Sixty-six!" the Decepticon snapped, trying to sound irritated and only partially succeeding. "You are dripping organic contaminants all over my floorboards. On the towel, towel! Oh NO! You too you mutt!"_

_Obediently the boy scrambled over to where Knockout had draped a large fluffy towel across his seats. The young sheepdog that had jumped in joined him and to the Decepticon's relief they were both soon dry. Benny disappeared completely in the soft white terrycloth and only the small mass and slight rocking on his shocks told Knockout the boy was still there. Finally a rumpled head of brown hair poked out of the towel and grinned at the dashboard. _

"_Some nor'wester huh?" Benny demanded brightly. _

_Despite the rain and cold Knockout felt warmth spread over his spark. It was mostly to do with the large, old pickup truck that rolled to a stop beside him and blocked the majority of the wind and rain. An old man stepped slowly out of the driver's side and moved painfully to the side of the car. Knockout respectfully opened his door and endured the onslaught of rain until the old man had positioned himself. _

"_Gramps!" Benny exclaimed excitedly from where he was leaning forward to examine the display. "Boy do we got a classic today! They are showing "White Zombie"!" _

"_Now that was a good one," the old man nodded tiredly. "Classic."_

_As was par for the course Knockout kept up light chatter with Benny over the speakers while the Grandfather pretended to sleep. The Decepticon carefully altered the display on his windshield so it looked like the outdoor theater screen was visible through the rain. In reality it wouldn't have been but Benny never seemed to notice. Tonight, as the movie opened with a funeral scene overlaid with chanting, the boy scrambled into the passenger seat and leaned back, eyes wide with fascination. _

"_Zombies!" he shouted gleefully with the carriage driver when the titular characters appeared._

_Knockout gave a pleased exvent that managed to clear most of the rain from his vents and settled down on the asphalt. The movie was free online and he had seen it more than once. But Benny was enjoying the tired old thing and his Grandpa was snoring away peacefully. No one needed him on the Nemesis. For the moment life was good._

"Ready for the wax?" Jack asked, jerking Knockout abruptly back to reality.

His mesh was literally humming with life and renewed energy, the energon coursing through it freely.

"Am I ever!" he enthused. "You were right. I don't know what sort of magic touch you have Cadet Darby but it does work amazingly."

"It isn't just Jack," Arcee offered, and Knockout noted that she had relaxed greatly. "His family would wash me a lot too. And Raf's family as well. They all liked spending time with a real life alien I guess," she explained with a soft smile. "I was more buffed and polished this trip than I have ever been I my functioning."

"Well I for one think I will stick to the expert," Knockout hummed in appreciation of the warm feeling of the wax spreading over his mesh. 

"Enjoy it while you can," Arcee warned not unkindly but with a touch of distress, "he heads back to Earth tomorrow."

"If you have any communications requests I can carry them for you," Jack offered. "Save you the credits for an official communication."

"What makes you think in need to contact anyone on Earth," Knockout demanded stiffening.

"I don't know," Jack shrugged somewhat taken aback at the sudden shift in attitude. "Orders for specialty wax?"

Arcee had bristled slightly her field spiking in warning and Knockout hurriedly smoothed his own field out to a non-threatening posture.

"Sounds good," he admitted. "I'll think about it."

All too soon the session was over and they parted ways. Granted a proper scientific study would require reputation but Knockout was satisfied that there was something in the careful attention of a human. Something he had been missing ever since he had abandoned Earth and the secret life he had built there. Now that he thought about it his mesh had always been at its best after Benny and Gramps had gone over it.

"The magic touch," Knockout muttered to himself. "Humans!"


	5. Correspondence

**Monkey See 5**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Correspondence **

Knockout returned to his quarters and carefully pulled out a sheaf of paper from a drawer. One hundred sheets of the finest cheap stationary that a small boy's allowance could buy. A bitter sweet smile twisted Knockout's faceplates as he ran a servo over the cellulose. Benny had been so excited when he had placed the gift on the car's faux leather seats. Tears had been slipping down the boy's cheeks as he had stammered out his simple thanks. Each drop an icy dagger to the Decepticon's spark.

Now he shuddered and pulled out the pen that had accompanied the gift. A few strokes revealed the cheap item useless and Knockout ruefully replaced it with a small laser torch. Thus armed he began to write.

_Dearest Benny,_

_I am very sorry that I have not written to you sooner. I am very busy here in the southern part of Africa, having lots of adventures. But enough about me._

_I trust those old bats are finally leaving you and your grandfather alone. How is the au pair working out?_

Knockout clenched his fists and drew in a ragged vent. Was he really going to dare this? The impressionable young human didn't need him. Didn't need his baggage. Didn't need his enemies. Knockout had manipulated bank accounts, government databases, and even physically removed any Earthly threats to the boy. Benny was better off without him. And yet…the medic recalled the cold dread in his spark as the last of the family Gasket had put together had strode off never to contact him again. Servos shaking he took up the torch and began to write.

Hours later he waited by the biodome, his spark fluctuating between shame, hope, and fear. The sound of a lightweight two-wheeler reached his audials and Knockout stiffened, putting his signature smirk in place as Arcee came through the gates carrying Jack. They stopped next to him and Jack easily dismounted.

"So you decided to take Jack up on his offer after all?" Arcee asked with a smile that to Knockout's surprise held some genuine warmth in it.

"Perhaps," the medic offered, "but first I need a word with him. Alone."

Arcee stiffened, the warmth gone from voice and field but Jack nodded and waved her away.

"We'll be fine partner," he assured her.

Knockout folded into his alt mode without preamble and opened one door. Jack slid in and accepted the seatbelts that fastened deliberately across his chest before the door closed. Knockout eased away from the biodome and headed out into the vast stretches of undeveloped land outside of the small oasis of light that was New Iacon. They drove in silence for several minutes until they reached an outcropping of jagged metal ridges that sparked with electric discharge. Here Knockout paused and a shudder worked through his systems. All this time Jack had waited silently in the passenger seat, watching with that spark piercing gaze.

"Can you give me your word?" Knockout blurted suddenly. "Give me your word you won't tell anyone what I tell you here? That you won't let anyone else see the messages I give you."

"You know I can't do that Knockout," Jack murmured regretfully, resting his hand on the flashing dashboard.

"Yes," muttered the medic, "I know. Just, if you determine that this information harms no one, that it is completely private. What about then?"

Jack took a deep breath and shook his head. "All communication from Cybertron to Earth has to be monitored by Homeworld Security," he stated firmly. "I can promise you that it won't go any further than the censors."

"That's not good enough," Knockout spat out bitterly. "I can't risk his life on the whims of some political-" the mech cut off the sentence and went silent cursing his lack of control. He started his engine and turned back towards New Iacon.

Jack seemed to be considering him even closer now it that was possible and when he spoke next Knockout could have sworn he heard echoes of Optimus's deep bass in his voice.

"Why don't you just tell me a story," the human suggested. "To pass the time? No one ordered me to report stories."

Knockout gave a bitter laugh and rolled to a stop again. "Why not?" He demanded. "I can spin as good a yarn as any. Let's see how do Earth fairy tales start? Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away?"

"That sounds about right," Jack agreed with an encouraging smile as he sat back.

"Once upon a time there was a boy." Knockout began again. "He was a sad little boy because his parents had died of some pitiful human disease and he was left only with his old Grandpa. Now his grandpa had already outlived the average lifespan for a human and the big bad government, represented by two old bats who lived on Botox," Jack gave a snort of laughter at that and Knockout shushed him, "anyway it was trying to take the boy away from his grandpa. They said he was unfit." There was sudden bitterness in the medic's voice but he continued. "But the grandpa fought them off again and again but he was getting so very tired. Now the old man loved to take the boy to an old drive in theater near his place. One night they went and there they met," Knockout hesitated and then gave a snort. "There they met a scoundrel. He was a selfish scrap head who didn't care for a soul in the world but for some reason he took a shine to the boy. He visited when it was convenient for him and gave little thought to the boy's safety. He condescended to let the boy sit in his car with the grandfather and their dog on cold nights to keep warm when the heater in their truck failed. He chased off the Botox bats so they wouldn't take the boy away and for some strange reason the boy," Knockout's voice broke here and he cleared it in embarrassment and rushed on, "the boy came to love the scoundrel. They kept in contact until the scoundrel left without a word to the boy and never spoke to him again."

The car's interior fell silent and for a mercy Jack was no longer staring so searchingly at Knockout. The medic let out an exvent of relief and waited. Finally Jack looked up and murmured.

"I don't much like the end of that story."

"Neither do I but that is the way it has to end," Knockout stated curtly. "You see if any of the scoundrel's old friends found out about the boy he would be in grave danger," Knockout paused and lowered his voice, "and Cybertronian zombies are far more dangerous than the ones you meet in a drive in theater."

"Maybe," Jack conceded, "but there is danger everywhere. That boy could be hit by a bus or catch the same virus that took his parents. Maybe you could rewrite the end if you had help."

"You humans have a phrase," Knockout growled. "Monkey see monkey do. There are dangers other than physical ones. The scoundrel might have known this too and had just enough of a heart left that he didn't want to risk tainting the boy with his presence anymore."

"Was the scoundrel really that bad?" Jack asked with a smirk.

"He once told the boy he loved him," Knockout spat out, "and then spent the next few weeks actively trying to destroy the boy and everything he loved."

"Why did the scoundrel do that?" Jack pressed.

"Because he was a strutless coward who was only following orders," there was such fury and agony in Knockout's voice that Jack winced and fell silent for a time.

"If that were his choice people would have to respect it," the human reluctantly agreed. "Even if they didn't agree. Still he could keep in touch."

"Which brings them right back to the physical danger," Knockout muttered.

Jack nodded thoughtfully and spoke. "No electronic communications source is ever secure."

"No it isn't," Knockout agreed. "Especially not with old faceless out there still."

"But if someone were to carry written communication to the boy from the scoundrel," Jack suggested.

"On a completely separate note I have some excellent second hand stationary I could sell you," Knockout blithely offered with hope flaring in his spark. "Only used once."

He could sense the stress in his passenger and easily guessed its source. He was asking the cadet to risk his career, to tread a very fine line that bordered on treason, and Jack knew it. Given the nature of the request however Knockout also knew there was at least a small chance the human who called Optimus Father would grant the request. Finally Jack took a deep breath and nodded.

"I could use some stationary," he agreed and Knockout felt his spark skip a pulse. "Maybe that boy in your story could use someone who knew about the scoundrel to look after him too?"

"No!" Knockout stated flatly, then hastily explained when he saw the offended look on Jack's face. "That boy would like letters sent to him safely from an anonymous agent. The scoundrel was not the only one with a few too many enemies, nor the only one whose presence might be a danger to him."

A rueful smile twisted Jack's face and he nodded. "That is true enough."

*Jack? Where are you!* the comm suddenly snapped to life causing the pair to wince. * The ground bridge opens in less than an hour!*

*Coming Cee!* Jack assured her.

"Here," Knockout pressed the stationary into his hands. "The first batch is on the house."

"Thanks," Jack replied with a grin before tucking the letters into his shirt. "You know we should do this again."

"Do what now?" Knockout asked skeptically.

"Let me give you a wash down," the human clarified. "I am usually on Cybertron four or five times a year now."

"Well I have no objection after that first time," the medic admitted readily. "I mean after all you mangled my mesh more than once. Only fair that you put some time into repairing it."

They chatted all the way back to the meeting point with Arcee and Jack waved cheerfully at Knockout as the partners rode through the event horizon. The medic couldn't help the small feeling of satisfaction the rose up in his spark, nor the irrational fear that he was somehow dooming young Benny by this small contact. _Look Primus, _Knockout silently prayed, _I know we haven't been on the best of terms lately, and I sure as the Pit don't know your policy on helping humans, but if you can find the time keep an optic on the kid. Earth isn't an easy place to grow up. Oh and thanks for hooking me up with Prime's kid._

Feeling both foolish and comforted Knockout folded back into his alt mode and raced off for Iacon Tower. He no doubt had a line of patients waiting for him and a new day to start.


End file.
